At that short range the shot blew the snake's head off, and Dermot sprang
back as the heavy body fell forward and lashed and heaved with convulsive
writhing of the muscles, while the tail beat the ground heavily.

At the report of the gun Badshah stopped in his hurried retreat and turned.
Then, still showing evidences of his alarm, he approached Dermot slowly.

"It's all right, old boy," said the Major to him. "The brute is done for."

The elephant understood and came to him. Dermot patted the quivering trunk
outstretched to smell the dead snake and then went forward and grasped the
hamadryad's tail with both hands, striving to hold it still. But it dragged
him from side to side and the writhing coils of the headless body nearly
enfolded him, so he let go and stepped back. As well as he could judge the
king-cobra was more than seventeen feet long.

It took some time to reassure Badshah, for the elephant was badly
frightened and, when Dermot mounted him, set off from the spot with a haste
unlike his usual deliberate pace.

* * * * *

For a week after this occurrence the Major was busy in his bungalow in
Ranga Duar drawing up reports for the Adjutant General and amplifying
existing maps of the borderland, as well as completing his large-scale
sketches of the passes. When his task was finished he filled his haversack
with provisions one morning and, shouldering his rifle, descended the
winding mountain road to the _peelkhana_. Long before this was visible
through the trees of the foothills he was apprised by the trumpeting of the
elephants and the loud shouts of men that there was trouble there. When he